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Friday, November 30, 2012

Part of me wants to rough it and go camping old school style – with a gas cooker ring, the light from our torches and definitely no ablutions block (it would seem I have partially blocked out all memory of how torturous it was to even use an outhouse in the middle of the freezing bush).

When the other part of my brain realizes I’ve been contemplating going somewhere where calls of nature are answered with a shovel and a roll of dunny paper under the arm, my psyche runs screaming from the room. Visualizing a five star resort with swim up bar is the only way to calm me. Cool water, hot waiter, all drinks put on the room tab. Ahhh, that feels better.

I’ve decided that the best way to cater for my contradictory holiday desires is to go Glamping. Glamorous Camping (Or maybe it means Glow Camping? Heyyy!). Upscale, five star luxury camping with all the mod cons? Yes. That will do nicely thankyouverymuch.

I could do it in this:

Duuuuude I want it so bad

Magshop.com.au are giving away an Airstream 762 International Series and a Jeep Grand Cherokee Laredo in their amazing Christmas Competition. The prize is worth in excess of a whopping $185,000! To enter, all you have to do is buy or renew a magazine subscription for someone (you’re someone!) this Christmas.

I would look bloody awesome in that. My own silver bullet trailer. I’d feel just like I was in the movies. Or a Regina Spektor song.

I could go bush by day, no doubt with Map Guy showing me how to use a leaf to whistle or whatever it is that country boys do, and then retire to my little oasis by night where I would show him how to apply a face mask and drink wine like a champion. Like city gals do. Win win.

With its own toilet I wouldn’t even need to go to the stinky communal ablutions block with permanently wet floor praying repeatedly “please be water and not wee”! Instead of running across the cold ground in the pitch black and having a luke warm shower with not enough pressure to wash out my shampoo, I could just nip in to my own private bathroom. At least then any wee puddles I stepped in would belong to someone I was related to, making it ever so slightly less repulsive.

If you can see yourself Glamping then check out the magazines Magshop have on offer like Mother and Baby magazine, Gourmet Traveller, Good Health, Real Living, The Women’s Weekly and many more.

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

It is not news that I have a Kegel exerciser. I told y'all about it and did a giveaway. A giveaway that over ONE THOUSAND people entered. Here I was thinking I'd be hearing crickets when I started talking about lady parts, but you lot are very pro-vagina and came in droves to get your hands on those awesome pink ben-wa balls.

Quite often since that day I've wondered what you could do with a ben wa ball when you no longer have a use for it? Once you have your vag of steel it's a bit sad for 'Ben' to just sit in your naughty drawer gathering dustso I took it upon myself to find out and let you know - think of it as a community service announcement if you will.

So here you have it. Four things you can use your ben-wa balls as when you're finished with them:

1. Earrings. They might be slightly heavy, but now that you've got a super strength vag, it's only right that you get super strength ears. This shit will be all over Etsy soon I just know it.

2. Bespoke Keyring. Particularly effective when you are at a swingers party - c'mon, you know that gal has been exercising!

3. Christmas Decorations. 'Tis the season to be jolly, and jolly you will be with these on your tree. In fact, I believe ben-wa is actually the ancient word for "inappropriate decoration".

4. Cat Entertainment Device. I have it on good authority that cats adore ben-wa balls and will go off like someone has spiked the catnip.

Monday, November 26, 2012

Raising funds, and eyebrows, are all in a day's work for the thousands of Santas that headed to Freo for the annual Variety Santa Fun Run yesterday.

I was super chuffed to be one of this year's Blogger Ambassadors for the event firstly because it is for an awesome charity, and secondly, because dressing up and acting like a twat comes really naturally to me.

Is this the real life? Is this just Santa Sea?

The sea of red and tinsel was amazing and it appeared that Pinterest had exploded and thrown up all of Christmas on The Esplanade.

Tricky refused to walk any of it and instead spent the entire 5km on top of Map Guy and his uncle The Engineer's shoulders, blowing raspberries and waving. Considering last Christmas any time he saw a Santa (or even a Christmas display!) he'd run away screaming blue murder, I'm chalking up a refusal to walk / want for a better viewpoint as a huge win.

Rockin' the Red

My beard gave me the absolute shits and since the Nova Crew had mentioned the propensity of synthetic beards to cause dehydration during fun runs, for *ahem* safety, I wore mine around my neck for 99% of the walk (i.e. for every single part of it except when I had my photo taken). Map Guy wore his the entire time since he'd BYO'd his own Ginger Ninja face fuzz.

There is still time to donate if you wish, but for now, I leave you with what you can do with your suit now that the event is over:

Thursday, November 22, 2012

Desperately Seeking Susan did big things for Madonna's career so I'm going to take a page out of her book, or classifieds column as the case may be, and do a little desperate seeking myself.

Introducing the new movie (poster) sensation for this summer, Desperately Seeking Sponsorship:

Starring yours truly as the chick who needs to get to Sydney in March for DPCON13. You can call me Glowdonna. And Glowsanna Arquette. That's right, I'm my own side kick. I've cloned myself so that you'll get twice the value for your sponsorship. Or something.

Just imagine, all that talent that went in to photoshopping my face in there could be directed to promoting your brand. If that's not winning, I don't know what is.

I'll be speaking at the conference on how to deal with trolls because apparently getting your name in CLEO will do that. I knew having a troll and getting hate mail would have to have a silver lining! Yay me! So I could be wearing your company logo on stage when I bang on about how someone disagreeing with you does NOT make them a troll. SHEESH! Most overused word ever.

So if you happen to be a company that has a few spare bucks to invest in a social media campaign then I'm your gal. Or gals if you count Glowsanna. Whatever.

This here blog is juuuust about to hit the half a million view mark since I went .com last year. I know it's not much compared to some others, but hey, for a blog with no long term goals or plans and a haphazard posting schedule (what schedule?), I think it's just fine and dandy.

I have a whole fancy pants prospectus that I'm just itching to send out, so if you'd like a copy to see if you and I are a good fit, then hit me up at glowless@wheresmyglow.com. Alternatively cash donations in non sequential unmarked bills can be sent to PO Box 2517 Warwick WA 6024. Just kidding. Maybe.

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Every time I write about Tricky's anaphylaxis to cashews I feel like the biggest bloody drama queen and I'm practically incapable of using my go-to coping method to deal with it: making a joke out of it. Because it's not funny. Not at all. Whilst it might have seemed overly dramatized to those of you with no experience with anaphylaxis, everything I wrote here about it was and remains true for allergy parents. The fear, the uncertainty, the endless anxiety. The constant vigilance leaves you weary and feeling like the biggest helicopter parent in the world the minute food is around.

If life occurred in the safe little bubble of your own home then you could avoid allergens quite easily, but we all need to go out. To the shops, day care, school, friends' houses, events, on holiday. The moment you leave your house (or someone visits) the chopper blades start spinning.

Tricky's allergy testing was inconclusive - he presented twice to emergency with 'atypical anaphylaxis' then had a negative skin prick test and positive RAST test. I had four emergency doctors and three immunologists tell me that if he had even minute traces of cashews that it would be life threatening.

The results didn't add up for me. I had a mama gut feeling that my little man was in fact not allergic but perhaps just sensitive to cashews(or something else entirely, like sulphur), and that both episodes had been severe, no warning asthma attacks just like the one he had a week later that required an ambulance. One immunologist agreed with me and said we could go straight to an oral challenge and not wait until he was five.

I figured knowing either way has to be better than this limbo. Two and half years of anxiety when it might all have been a mistake? No thanks. I wasn't at all nervous in the lead up to it, in fact I was quite giddy with excitement so sure was I that everything would be fine. But then when I woke up yesterday morning to the sad news that a 16 year old boy had died
at a Sydney school after a cooking class used nuts in a cookie recipe,
and it filled me with dread. Was I really about to take my kid to the
hospital to possibly induce the same anaphylaxis based on a hunch? I was ready to hand myself in to authorities as the worst mother ever.

We headed to Princess Margaret Hospital and "checked in". It's just like checking in at a hotel except that you get tagged with bright red arm bands and there is sadly no swim up bar. Base line obs were taken and all seemed well so we moved on to a new skin prick test. As I watched, an angry red welt appeared on his arm and I thought it was all over. What the fuck!? Dude, your one previously negative test came back positive before we even started the challenge?! I don't even know how it is possiblebut the result put him firmly in to the allergic basket. Shit.

After a consult with the registrar and the fellow (jolly good fellow?) it was decided that we'd persevere to the next stage - rubbing a cashew on his gums and see what happened with epi pen at the ready. I didn't breathe for the next fifteen minutes but Tricky did. With ease. So we continued.

Each time he was given more and more cashew nut and observed. He absolutely loved them and would ask "more p'ease" without fail... then the alarm went off to signal his blood pressure was dropping. He was otherwise fine - smiling, playing with the iPad, telling me about all the cars in his game - and he quickly picked back up again. Again the word atypical was thrown around. I kinda like my kid to be typical.

Yet another consult with the big wigs and they gave another dose but watched him much more closely. After his second last dose two welts developed on his chin and he started to cough. If I'd been wearing the heart monitor, it would have been beeping like mad right about then. The doctors came, much more quickly this time, but his lungs sounded good and all his vital signs were fine. Atypical. Sigh.

His final dose was given and he drifted off to sleep safe in my arms for the mandatory two hour wait. While he slept they continued to monitor him. I could tell you now about how when he woke up he started coughing and scratching and everyone freaked out, but really, it's more of the same atypical stuff and this post is already way too long.

The final all clear won't be given until later today because you can have a delayed anaphylaxis reaction, but right now it is looking absolutely bloody brilliant. He has a mild allergy to cashews but it's something he is likely to outgrow with continued exposure. I have a RSI from constant jazz hands and feel like bursting in to tears I'm so happy.

Chicken cashew nut is now back on the menu and I can now actually buy foods without checking the packet to see if they are manufactured on the same lines as tree nuts. Hooray! Last week Kellogg's and Be Natural asked if I'd like to do a giveaway and were very understanding when I replied "Maybe. I'll let you know on Tuesday". To help me celebrate this momentous occasion they have come to the party and given me some awesome prizes to give away that contain NUTS and TRACES OF NUTS! HUZZAH! To top it off they're sending Tricky some too.

To enter click hereto go to the Facebook App. If you're not on Facebook, and really, I can't blame you, you can enter below by commenting (just let me know it's an entry).

I've walked the shoes of an anaphylaxis parent for six months. A blink of an eye compared to what other 'ana' parents do. As awful as it was, I'm grateful for the perspective it has given me and particularly thankful for the support of this community and the outreach of certain bloggers (Bianca from Big Words, Grace from With Some Grace), and readers who helped me navigate this path and feel less alone.

For the foreseeable future I'll be dancing in the streets and screaming to anyone who will listen that my kid doesn't have anaphylaxis and that I still can't believe my hunch was right.

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

You know what I just absolutely love right before Christmas (and therefore right before my birthday because I'm a Christmas baby - have you got me my present yet?)? Unexpected bills.

No I'm not talking about the "Oh I forgot my phone bill was due" or the "Ugh I have to buy presents for my sixteen nieces and nephews because my family are dumb and can't organize a Kris Kringle" type of unexpected, I'm talking about the ones you truly cannot see coming.

Like the $4000+ vet bill we have looming on the horizon.

Last week, Sprocket pulled up one of his back legs and refused to put any weight on it at all. He limped around the yard with giant puppy dog eyes. Which isn't hard since his natural eye state is puppy dog eyes. Considering it was my gardening prowess that removed the weeds from the lawn, the first thought was that I'd missed a spot and he had a prickle stuck firmly in his foot, but we couldn't find anything obvious.

The next day we took him to the vet because he was refusing to walk on it. I'm not entirely sure what I was expecting them to say but it certainly wasn't that poor Sprocket appears to have torn/ruptured/done something to his anterior cruciate ligament. Just like a footballer. Meaning the next bitch he is seen next to at the park will be papped as a wagging WAG.

Our vet has said it was a predictable injury considering he has slightly dodgy doggy hips. He takes after me, obviously. On the bright side, he was having a bloody good time on a 'doggy date' when it happened. If this was inevableinividbleinevidible bound to happen, then I'm glad it wasn't just chasing a fucking cat that did it.

He's not in much pain and we are waiting it out to see if it is ruptured or just a bruised badly knee and gets better by itself. Daily anti-inflammatories seemed to be helping for the last week but his improvement has stalled now and he's still not walking properly. On the up side though, for an outside dog he is thoroughly enjoying the vet's order to keep him inside and comfy.

Next step? Handing over a cool grand of cash for scans under anaesthetic because bastard animals can't just hold their breath and keep still like humans. If they find something, they fix it for an extra $3K+.

Since it's the second time our pound puppy has required surgery (first time he had a motherfucking abscess form in his throat - just like I had when I was 16, see I told you he takes after me!), I'm now regretting not getting pet insurance.

Monday, November 19, 2012

On Saturday I put the call out on my Facebook page for advice. Because that is what Facebook is for these days since it obviously isn't for promoting blogs to real people any more, not even when you pay *grumble grumble*. I was meant to be going to a murder mystery party as Bette Davis and didn't know whether to go young and glam (like Bette in Jezebel) or old and insane (like Bette in What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?).

My initial urge, the one felt deep down next to my foofu valve, was to go old and ugly just because it would give me a chance to whip out my makeup kit again. It's been a while since I stopped taking on makeup clients but I still have all the cool stuff. Plus if I make myself look ugly with makeup, when I take it off I look fucking gorgeous in comparison.

You lot came to the party with the vast majority voting for old and ugly. I love youse guise!

An hour is all it takes to turn me from a 30 year old to an old and
insane Baby Jane. I had a head start on the insane, obviously. I put these photos on Instagram (follow me for more fugmo pictures) and managed to scare a few of you. You're welcome.

I practiced the facial expressions for ages, so can we all just appreciate the grumpy I'm-batshit-crazy-and-am-going-to-run-you-over-with-my-car glare for a moment?

So how do you turn yourself in to Baby Jane Hudson? In 9 simple steps! (Click on the pics for larger, scarier pics - do so at your own risk).

1. Start with a blank palate. This is also called your face if you're not a wanker. Pin your hair back

2. Put a metric fucktonne of full coverage foundation on in a colour that is a few shades too light - Baby Jane makeup is packed on because that bitch was crazy. It didn't come across too well in my selfies but my new found ability to raise one eyebrow did so it's still a win.

3. With a brown liquid makeup (I used Ben Nye wet/dry theatre makeup but you can use brown eyeliner or even a matte eyeshadow & water), start drawing in some lines with a fine brush to create shadows. To know where they go, pull faces and draw in the lines you create! Lift your eyebrows, BAM forehead wrinkles, scrunch your nose, BAM eyebrow wrinkles, squint, BAM crows feet. You are guaranteed to look like a tool while you do it.

4. Make the lines even darker then stop to Instagram the shit out of your new look. Poke your head around the corner where your husband is cooking dinner and say "Have a sneak peek at your future, honeybuns!"

5. Add a shed load of black eyeliner to the top and bottom lids. I used Ben Nye wet/dry theatre makeup again but any eyeliner will do. If it smudges, that's OK! This bitch is cray cray and it will just help the look.

6. Add false lashes. I used the biggest pair of black lashes I could find on the top because I was going for a caricature look. Falsies on the lower lashes are perfect for this look but if you don't have them, draw some on with black liquid eyeliner.

7. Add a bright blush to the apples of your cheeks only, as if you're dressing up as some aging cupie doll... oh wait, you ARE! Then grab a red lip liner and give yourself exaggerated lips - yes, draw outside the line, it will feel gross but it is for the greater good - smoosh on some red lippy over the top for good measure and don't forget your beauty mark (even though it isn't visible in the stock photo above it is in the film).

8. Get wiggy with it. Pin the sides back slightly to create the bouffant mullet look that old Jane preferred.

9. Add extra crazy for good measure.

VOILA! You are now Baby Jane Hudson and will harbour the urge to overshadow your sister!

As an extra step, when you get to the party where you've only met three of the other guests before and 90% of the people have never even heard of the character you're dressed up as, be sure to loudly declare "I'M NORMALLY MUCH LESS UGLY!". If nothing else it means they'll back away and leave you next to the food table alone.

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

It’s nearly Christmas and that means it is time for families everywhere to pack themselves in to their cars and drive for miles to get drunk be merry and festive with the family members you have barely seen since December last year. This little Glowing family is going to jump in the car and drive for five freaking hours to Albany in what seems like our 734th road trip of the year.

I figured since I’m now a seasoned professional at this family road trip caper I would share my tips and tricks to make your festive season road trip a little easier.

1. Choose the right car

Safety and comfort of our kids is important, yes, but those little dudes have luxury, slightly reclined carseats that pretty much mean they’re traveling in the toddler equivalent of business class. So I say think of yourself and your own toosh that will be numb in no time if you go in teeny tiny cramped little car. You’re the one who has to drive this thing and you might as well do it in style, so the car you need might just be the Infiniti JX. Not only does it have sensors and beepy things that tell you if you’re going to hit something, but it has enough seats for a basketball team of children and a huge amount of space for luggage. You can pack all your clothes and pressies and still have enough room for the hefty wine supply needed to get you through Christmas day without wanting to kill anyone. Plus you can say “To Infiniti and beyond!” every time you turn the ignition.

2. Keep the snacks handy

I suggest having three separate snack stashes – one for the normal food you want to feed your kid and one with bribes for when you just want them to shut up and stop asking if we’re there yet and playing punch buggy on the back of their brother's head. The third stash is filled with awesomely delectable schnackens and is only brought out when the whiney bastards have fallen asleep so you don’t have to share.

Donnybrook Apple Fun Park = I'm the best mum ever

3. Plan your route

Check the map before you go and figure out where all the cool playgrounds are you can stop at. This allows you to be the cool parent that has taken your kid to three parks in one day, but much more importantly the kids will tire themselves out and sleep like the dead on the next leg of the trip thus giving you more time to eat your special snacks and listen to something that isn’t the Wiggles or a screaming child.

4. In-car entertainment

I like to kick it old school with car trips which means singing, eye spy, spotto and magnetic drawing boards. However after a while they’re often accompanied by the overwhelming desire to stick a plastic spork in my own ear in an attempt to make it all stop. At that point I say a little thanks to all the clever people in the world that came up with portable games and iThings and the clever cookie who put a fancy pants in-car cinema system in cars like the Infiniti JX.

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Forget six degrees of separation (and the truly shit house movie of the same name), and disregard Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon. In Perth, you can connect yourself to most people by three degrees. Which of course is a fact that I just made up but might as well be true.

Around here, it's called being Perthed.

It extends also to bumping in to people you know wherever you go and is the sole reason that I put on makeup when I leave the house and avoid certain shopping centres. I'm pretty much guaranteed to see someone I know and the likelihood of me seeing them is based on a sliding scale:

In my three shifts at my new job I've seen seven people I know, which by my own scale must mean I look like a bit of a dog when I'm there.

On top of those seven people (not literally, we're not playing Twister), I had the honour of introducing the 'Perthed' concept to a reader of this here ol' blog, who is in town visiting from Brisbane and happened to be at my work:

"You're 'Where's My Glow? aren't you?"

*shifty eyes* "Um. Yes?" *mild panic*

Amy, who was an invaluable help to me when Tricky first had issues with anaphylaxis and asthma,recognized my media-whore face and said hello meaning I was simultaneously having a nice little OMG-I-was-recognized ego boost and an OMG-I-was-recognized freak out.

Being recognized by a reader has to be the strangest thing ever to come from Blogging. It has happened a few times now and is testament again to just how small Perth is (one time it happened at teeny tiny Kalgoorlie airport which was a complete spin out), and each time I think a) How is it possible for anyone to recognize me without an Instagram filter and b) Being a celebrity and having this every minute of every day would be fucking weird!!

Monday, November 12, 2012

When you make a claim like that, you better have some serious proof... in the form of semi-embarrassing photos of another hugely awesome #RedBalloonMums experience of a lifetime!

This weekend Map Guy, Real Jive Turkey, his Jooolie and I took to the water of the Swan River to quite literally make waves.

We got off to a rather shitty start to the day with all four of us running late and then my debit card getting rejected when I was upgrading our deal. The never-late-Glow kept the boat waiting and the control freak that resides inside me was not happy. And by not happy I mean I started to cry. In front of everyone. Map Guy and the Jive are used to it, but Jooolie just thought I was a little strange - to be honest, she wasn't really that far off.

It was impossible to stay unhappy though because the sun was shining and we were handed ponchos! Well, wet suit type robes that made Map Guy look decidedly like Cornholio and me look like a rather excited condom with arms. Who doesn't want to look like that in public and take photos to prove it?

Then the action started. The music was cranked and we zoomed out of there full throttle. It was bloody fast - at full speed the jet was pumping out a whopping 25 TONNES of water PER MINUTE. The 360 degree turns were intense and I didn't know whether to scream my now sopping wet lungs out or roar with laughter. I did both and managed to sound like a strangled cat.

For 25 minutes we did fishtails (avoiding the mermaid tails, obviously), brake stops and spins. I didn't get sea sick at all, though I figure if I had spewed the amount of water washing over us would have had me clean as a whistle by the time the boat docked and no one would have been any the wiser.

I clutched on to a slightly dodgy waterproof camera for the whole ride and just kept firing away randomly, hoping that at least one of the photos would work out. I love the top photo here, even though you can't tell it's us, it captures perfectly how awesome (and wet) the whole ride was.

And there we are, the four of us, completely drenched, smelling like dolphin, and grinning from ear to dripping wet ear.

The Jive hasn't stopped saying he's going to go back and do it again - though next time he won't wear shoes and socks. Squelchy Volleys just aren't in this season.

If you're stuck for a Christmas gift this year, throw out the idea of 'stuff' that you just have to find somewhere to store and go for a RedBalloon voucher that will create awesome memories and not take up room on the shelf - other than a framed photo of you looking like a condom of course!

Don't forget you can get $30 off your RedBalloon purchase of $129 or more by entering RBXMAS12 at the checkout!

Disclosure: Thanks to the team at Digital Parents Collective for inviting me to be a part of the RedBalloon Experience Program. I will be sharing my awesome experiences with you over the next few months. To read all of my experiences so far, click here. As always, all opinions are my own however the experiences are complimentary.

Friday, November 9, 2012

It’s spring time and yet Perth still doesn’t seem to have gotten the memo. It’s freezing and raining one day and then sun burn central the next. We’re like Melbourne but with much less fashion sense. Skinny jeans and thongs, anyone?

One of the cool things about rainy days though is that you can legitimately dip in to your rainy day fund. What?! It’s raining! A technicality, maybe.

OK so I’m not the best at saving money unless of course you count the things that I buy that are on sale. That counts, right? Even though I didn’t actually need that fourth pair of practically identical black shoes for 70% off. Or that basket of pig shaped pegs just because they were buy one, get one free. Or *ahem* almost expired wine for $1 a litre. It’s just that going past a sale is against my religion and I’m extremely devout.

Which is why when I came across the Virgin Saver Account I found a really simple way to save your pennies no matter whether you’re saving for new shoes or a round the world trip. It’s so simple because there are no limits on deposits, it has a great ongoing rate and no fees whatsoever . No, that’s not a typo. No fees whatsoever. With no fees to chip away at your money, you’ll get to your savings goal even faster so Hello Manolo Blahniks or London. Or if you’re really good, Manolo Blahniks from the flagship store in London.

There are full details of the account here but for a quick glimpse, here’s a handy table to show how they compare against some of the others. It’s not quite as handy as, say, a coffee table, but since when does your coffee table give you a high variable interest rate? Hrm?

Virgin Money would like to help support saving initiatives across Australia and to do so they’ve given me some cold hard cash to give away to kick start your fund. I like the sound of that, and really, who wouldn’t like a bit of free money to start a new savings campaign?

For your chance to win $100 credited to a Virgin Money Saver Account all you have to do is fill out the form below and tell me what you’re saving your pennies for right now. A holiday? A new laptop? Pig shaped pegs?

If you don’t win that, never fear, there are also 25 runner up prizes of $25 Virgin Money Saver Accounts!

When I worked as the makeup chick in a pharmacy I would spend a lot of time with the naturopaths being told about all the marvelous things these tablets and potions were meant to be able to do for me. I often wondered whether it was all pseudo science and rather than part me with my symptoms it would just part me with my cash. I decided to try out a few out anyway because a) I had an income and b) I got an employee discount.

I swallowed giant horse tablets of spirulina, fish oil, iron, a multivitamin and, because I was duffed at the time, some super duper folate. I was taking so many different things that upon opening my cupboard a multi coloured foul smelling deluge of digestible plastic would descend on me. It was so stressful being covered every morning that I considered taking a stress remedy then decided cleaning my cupboard would probably be cheaper and more effective in the long run.

I was on my 'prescribed' regime for a year or so and other than having significantly less money in my bank account and wee that looked decidedly radioactive, I didn't notice anything different when I was on them. Though that could have been thanks to the eating chips constantly while preggers then not sleeping at all thanks to a newborn who fed freaking hourly. Apparently they negate all positive effects.

So here I am, a month in to my new health regime and I'm curious about it all again, but obviously not curious enough to actually buy any. And really, aren't blogs just avenues for getting advice?

Do you take vitamins? Should I? How do you pronounce it?

EDIT: 01/12/12 I've been taking a multi for a month now and OMG my nails are so strong. They've never been this strong before - they were always chipping and splitting. Now they're really long and painted blood red. Talons FTW!

Sunday, November 4, 2012

When I woke up this morning my first thought was "Can I call in sick?". It had been pissing down all night, the forecast was shocking and the only thing darker than the clouds were the bags under my eyes after three hours of sleep. At that point I thought it would have been much better, and definitely far less painful, to die of a protracted vomiting fit than walk for 6km in the rain.

I'd signed up for the Big Walk a few months ago and figured it would be a leisurely stroll around the river on a lovely, sunny day. My only concerns, other than the whole "what if my broken body seizes half way around?", was if I'd get hat hair, but Perth's latest attempt at Spring has been rather dismal and hat hair was the least of my concerns.

Seeing as I was the one who organized all I figured I didn't have much of a choice. And honestly, a little bit of wind and rain is nothing when you think about what the kids in Princess Margaret Hospital have to go through. Plus I figured since 4yo Adam was coming up to Perth to join us and walk too, some crappy weather wasn't much of an excuse. Well that and I couldn't let a 4yo show me up.

So whilst it was a morning of rain, lightning, thunder, a few minutes of hail (which will henceforth be known as "those little icy bastards") it did lead itself to putting the Mighty Boosh's claim that it's impossible to be unhappy in a poncho to the test.

For part of the walk it appeared Tricky had thrown out the Mighty Boosh ideal and instead was channeling Laura Palmer's "wraaaaaapped in plaaaaastic". Top mother points to me for making it look like I was suffocating my child.

The team tshirts turned out to be quite disastrous. Although I got mine to work eventually, it wasn't after much swearing, hair pulling and threats to throw the printer out of the window (thanks, nameless brand for not putting full instructions on your damn packet). The only time I touch an iron in this house is to do iron on transfers - the frugal gal's answer to dress up parties and funky kids clothes - yet I still had trouble. Then after all that it was too bloody cold to even show them off. Damn you, Perth weather!

But on the upside there were long stretches of glorious
sunshine (meaning a lovely jacket off, jacket on, jacket off, jacket on
cycle), great company, a fabulous sausage sizzle, free rides for the kids and, at last count, $1330 in donations to our team.

Tricky on his first ferris wheel ride. He was fine, thanks to Adam

Thank you so much to all the walkers for joining in and braving the weather and to everyone who donated. You can see a list of the participants and our generous donors here - and if you're feeling sorry for us having to walk in the rain, you can still donate.

Thursday, November 1, 2012

I have gone fun run crazy it would seem. Yes even I, the girl who doesn’t exercise, can be active when it’s for charity. If you've watched the video you'd already know that I'm one of the Blog Ambassadors for the Variety Santa Fun Run! If you haven't, you really should watch it now if for no other reason than to piss yourself laughing at me. It's OK, I'll wait...

The Variety Santa Fun Run is being held almost nationwide (sorry, Tassie) on Sunday 25th of November and this year I'll be dressing up (along with Map Guy and Tricky) and heading to Freo to be a Claus for a Cause. You can go here to register and receive your Santa Suit!!

If dressing up as the big guy doesn’t float your boat but you’d still like to contribute, you can sponsor me here. And really, I think I deserve to be sponsored after prancing around Perth in my suit to show you just how fashionable it is, don't you? And the dancing bit? That's at least worth a $20, surely?

Images used with permission from Variety

Last year there were 1200 West Aussie Santas that raised $40,000 for local children who are sick, disadvantaged or have special needs. Your dollars will do so much for the kids in your state, so here's an idea of exactly what your money can do:

♥ $75 can send a child with special needs to the annual Variety Kids Christmas Party

♥ $200 can help a child who is non-verbal to communicate with iPad assistive software

♥ $1,000 can give fun and freedom to a child living with disability with their own customised tricycle

♥ $3,500 can provide an electric bed and pressure mattress to give a child with special needs a good night’s sleep

♥ $5,000 can help a child living with physical disability with a customised standing frame